Pointy Edges and Bandaids

To the people that kill themselves to help others.

Pointy Edges and Band Aids

 

 

I can see your pointy edges,

They don’t scare me.

I can see that you’re ruined,

And it just intrigues me.

Your damaged heart entices me,

Maybe it’s because I want to fix it.

Maybe it’s because I’m naïve.

I think I can fix people like old cars, that just need a new part,

Unfortunately, people are not like cars, we are stuck with the parts that we came with.

I want to touch your pointy edges,

I’m willing to bleed for you,

Even if you destroy me.

I’ve given little pieces of myself to many people just like you,

Maybe one day you’ll all meet each other, and put my pieces back together,

So I can be whole again.

Maybe I’m just stuck like this forever,

Torn apart by people that give me nothing, and in return get all the best parts of me.

What is a good person?

I believe the best people come from dark pasts,

I believe the best people had to fight to become that way.

My mistake, is mistaking the good from the bad, and the better from the worse,

And I poke myself on the pointy edges of the bad and the worse,

And I bleed out into the souls of the ones that feed on my blood,

And are never willing to feed me theirs.

I’ve lost worlds in people who I thought could be my universe,

Now I’m running out of planets and my world is being shattered.

I am the band aid for all the broken hearts.

I just wish somebody would stick to me, and heal my wounds,

Before I finally bleed out.